A Slow Rain
by samflint98
Summary: Hi all, this is my first foray into writing on here so sorry if it isn't all up to scratch and is a little short, I hope to get the length up a bit as I start getting into the jist of things, so enjoy :) A slow rain descends on Gotham as the dark knight is on a manhunt, but all is not as it seems...
1. Chapter 1

A Slow Rain

_Gotham, 14th of November, 23.00pm:_

The pounding rain encompassed Gotham. The streets were a grey malaise of activity and intrigue. High above on the Gotham skyline of destitute skyscrapers and derelict spires, the cities would be protector, its spirit of vengeance, stooped wearily over one of many long forgotten gargoyles, eyeing the city street below. The rain began to flow down his face, dripping onto the dull concrete paving slabs. It was then he noticed what he came for, a lowly, somewhat scruffy looking man shufflingly hastily down the water stained city street with a tatty leather briefcase grasped tightly in his hand. Batman seized the chance and pounced from the gargoyle, his cape fluttering in the winter breeze, and glided to the street below. His dark metallic boots slammed into the overflowing sewage that festered on the pavement, as he glared menacingly at the decrepit figure he had seen from above. His target, now terrified, slowly looked around in agonising horror, as if desperately looking for help, but it was to no avail as within seconds the man had collapsed to the floor with a look of unspeakable horror on his face. A small trickle of white foam oozed from his mouth, spreading across the pavement, mixing in with the murky grime filled pools that had accumulated on many of the streets in the city, as it often did during such intensive rain. Batman rushed forward, wildly plunging his way through the concerned bystanders who had gathered after the man had fallen, attempting to avoid a major catastrophe and to prevent them from opening the briefcase. He had just reached the inner ring of the crowd as the case slowly opened and to his horror a murderous cackle escaped from within it…


	2. Chapter 2

Gotham, 14th of November, 23.02pm:

He woke up to the sound of the rain falling on the bloodied pavement beside him. Still dazed and confused from the events minutes before, Bruce quickly rushed to his feet in an attempt to grasp an understanding of the situation. He rose to find a ring of badly wounded bystanders and several mangled bodies towards the centre of the group he had been standing in. He stumbled over to the nearest injured to assess their wounds. At this stage there was little he could do to help, and as the blood slowly trickled away with the rain, and with paramedics and law enforcement nearing the scene, he decided to seize as much evidence as possible before retreating to the batcave to deliberate his next move. He quickly scanned the area, a few metres in front of him lay the charred remains of the man he was chasing, and next to him lay the battered briefcase he was so desperate to cling on to. Bruce remembered the barbaric cackle he heard seconds before he was knocked unconscious by what he now assumed to be the detonation of the items the briefcase contained. He noticed a small object floating in a murky puddle in the corner of his eye. he bent over and examined the now spoilt piece of card. An uneasy feeling rose through his body as he began to recognise the full horror of the situation. The body was impossible to analyse and whatever the briefcase had once contained was now well and truly gone, so with the ominous echoing of police sirens growing ever nearer down the shadowy, now empty street, and with little but new bruises and haunting memories, he departed, his cape dragging in the blood and grime of the harrowing scene he left behind, another crime alley, another tragedy.

A joker playing card is left face up in a pool of stagnant, bloodied water.


	3. Chapter 3

Gotham, the Batcave, 15th of November, 3.51am:

Now back at the batcave, Bruce began filing through footage of the incident whilst his ever loyal servant and friend Alfred began patching him up, as he had, regrettably, so often done in the past. Silence filled the cave, Bruce Wayne hadn't been out of the manor for weeks, the bat family was broken and scattered, disillusioned with Bruce's lack of trust in his allies, Alfred knew Batman had to stop, another fight with the joker could push him to his breaking points, his family needed Bruce now, more than ever. At last, Alfred broke the silence, "Is there no other possible explanation, sir?" he pleaded heavy heartedly, " This doesn't strike me as his typical course, master Bruce, the bomb could have killed you for christ sakes!".

"You don't know him like me Alfred, nobody does," Bruce mysteriously retorted, "this case has Joker written all over it, from what I saw and the nearby CCTV cameras, the man died from a toxin, already inside his body, which his handler released when he saw me coming, there was no trace of the toxin at the scene, but I got a match on the handler."

"Just another brainless thug I assume sir, nothing special here, I'd leave this one to the commissioner, no need to waste your-" Alfred stopped, fixated on the screen, showing the facial match of the handler. "But that's-" He muttered, unable to continue. As Alfred gazed up at the monitor, the warm face of Tim Drake stared back at him. "Still think I should leave this one to Gordon?" Bruce said arrogantly. Alfred remained mute. "I have a fix on Tim's last known whereabouts, I'll find him" he said coldly.

"But sir, what if-" Alfred murmured.

"I'll find him." Bruce snapped as he entered the Batmobile. As he drove away, the roar of the engine echoed down the cave, then the silence encompassed it once again.


End file.
